Golden Sun: Last Light
by jollygreendragon
Summary: Thirty-three years ago, a trick of fate sent destiny on a detour. After nobody saved the world - nobody even tried - a last, desperate stab at salvation leads to Matthew and Tyrell, the children of no one particularly important, cast out into the world on a mission to avert disaster. But the forces of Alchemy have been out of balance for far too long...
1. Prologue: Retrograde

_NOTE TO PROSPECTIVE READERS: Expect this to be experimental as hell. This prologue literally has a hip-hop breakdown because I was listening to Hamilton at the time, and I fully expect that to be par for the course. I'm not writing it to write a good story, I'm writing it because it's been bouncing around in my head for literally half a decade and I need to relieve some stress. Why post it online then? Because it's fanfiction, and people enjoyed fanfiction that I wrote once upon a time._

 _This can also be found on my Archive of our Own page (google my username + archive of our own, I don't think links work), where I'll be able to interact with people who post comments, but I'll post to both simultaneously. No favoritism._

 _Enjoy it if you feel so inclined!_

* * *

Wind roared, earth shattered, water raged, fire blazed, just so. The elements, Alchemy, rightfully unleashed for the first time in untold centuries. And of all things, in the form of a trap, to slay its would-be liberators and secure its own cage.

Menardi spared but a glance at the doomed town in Mt Aleph's lap. Her legs worked beneath her, long strides eating yard after yard as the mountain did its damnedest to consume her. Saturos ran for his life at her side. Ran for all lives.

They had volunteered for this mission, they and their associates. It had been the greatest battle-party Prox could afford to dispatch because they knew that there were no second chances. Diplomacy had failed. Confrontation had failed. The world was dying, and Prox, positioned literally at the edge of civilization, had a front-row seat. Perhaps that was why they understood, and no one else cared.

She would have spat if she had the breath to spare. She swerved around a tree, felt the heat as it was incinerated behind her by a molten projectile from the sky. Certainly, this current situation was an argument for why Alchemy should remain sealed. Menardi felt a shiver, planted her feet and dove to the side as the spot she had stood upon flash-froze. Her hands began to sink in the mud as the earth grabbed at her, and she flared heat to cook it to ceramic in an instant, shoved against it as she pushed to her feet to continue running.

The Vale Elder Council held to their beliefs like to a branch above a chasm. They had refused to help. If they'd even known anything, they didn't share it. And thus, a score of Prox's warriors were forced to enter Sol Sanctum under cover of darkness. They found the secret paths. They reached the top.

And then in an instant nearly all of them were dead.

Saturos was struck by lightning. He stumbled. Menardi grabbed his hand, ignored the sting as residual energy crossed into her arm, dragged him a few steps until he regained his footing. He nodded her way.

The two of them had survived, when all the others died. A single Proxian battle-pair. Menardi didn't believe in fate, not in a world this cruel, but hell if it didn't seem convenient. They would return home, share what they had learned, and next time, they would be ready. Saturos and Menardi, back with a vengeance, prepared and armed with knowledge. They would retrieve the fabled Elemental Stars, light the Lighthouses, bring balance back to the world and restore its vibrant lifeblood.

The air calmed from a lethal, almost sentient storm to a mere hurricane. Lights from the town below reached them through the rain. Was this deliberate? Had Mt Aleph somehow spared Vale the worst of Sol Sanctum's wrath? If so… they were out.

They were safe.

Saturos stopped against a rain-slick rock face and leaned against it. "Only the two of us survived," he called to her through the storm. His voice was full of awe, though not dull with shock. Death was a frequent visitor in Prox.

She approached him at a walk, now that she could afford to take her time. "How could we have anticipated Sol Sanctum would unleash such fury?" she agreed.

Despite it all, they would live to tell the tale. This was no failure, it was a setback. And next time-

She heard a whistle. Her heart rushed into her throat, and as she looked up at the rapidly approaching shadow, she thought of her sister-

* * *

Isaac threw himself at the wall the moment he felt the ground shake. Another errant boulder, thrown by the mountain above - not THE Boulder, that had already fallen, but still a deadly projectile - and something that huge might keep rolling. He pressed beneath the overhang.

The voices he was sure he'd heard through the storm had ceased. Was it a trick of the rain? Was he hallucinating? He waited several long seconds. Nothing. The… the boulder would have come down by now if it was still rolling, right? It was safe to come out?

But he couldn't bring himself to move yet, because… because _something needed to happen, and it hadn't happened._ Yes, part of it was fear, but… there was something. A part of his brain that was frozen, waiting, sleeping.

Waiting for a signal that hadn't come.

"Isaac! Wait!"

Garet. Not the signal, but, wait. What signal? What had he been thinking of? There was a crash, and terror, and confusion, and that was all he could remember.

"Isaac, I'm here to help. Times like this, we men have to stick together!" Garet ran up, grabbed him by the arm, dragged him bodily out of his reverie.

And it was thus that they ran to town, desperate to find just one more person who could help. But in a disaster such as this, everyone had a story to tell, everyone had a crisis to handle, no one had time to spare.

And it was thus that a week later, the bodies of Felix, of Jenna's parents, of Isaac's father, were finally found and buried, and the reality sank in, and closure draped over the town and the fall of the Boulder was left safely in the past.

And it was thus that they grew older, the three of them. And it was thus that they grew wiser, learned from the past, studied their history, studied Psynergy, studied combat, to prepare and step in if disaster struck again (though they knew deep down that it never would).

And it was thus that Kraden died. And it was thus that Isaac took over his studies, to ensure that his mentor's efforts not be forgotten, to learn about the event that defined his childhood, and it was thus that Jenna joined him. It was thus.

They lived, they learned, they survived.

The stars shone in the night sky,

the sun lit up the day,

and somehow, some way, they found that in each other,

a _life_ awaited,

a promise of safety, of stability and purpose,

and at first

there was doubt,

 _life would always change,_

misery and loss lurked and in every other shadow danger waited to take it away,

but they made it.

Through sickness, through health.

Not the journey they waited for

but the journey that came,

and for once there was no shame

in hope.

And it was thus that thirty-three years passed, and in the Vale behind the veil, they heard nothing of the world's death.


	2. Arc 1: Descendant, Part 1

Every sound seemed to echo into infinity, and Matthew was careful as he drew stale air into his lungs. Sol Sanctum was dimly lit - it was to be kept from complete darkness at all times, for reasons of tradition - but not nearly as bright as during ceremonial celebrations, when people were actually allowed inside. He had always thought of it was warm and welcoming, if a little barren. Today, with no one to watch him explore, it felt mysterious. Suspicious, even.

He glanced over his shoulder. Little sunlight reached this far into the chamber, but the fact that there was any at all told him that the person on guard duty wasn't back yet. Even so, no point risking it. No sound, no Psynergy, nothing that would prompt investigation. Matthew was 99% certain that somewhere in Sol Sanctum, there would be a place to hide.

But it wouldn't benefit him until he _found_ it.

The chamber opened into the central atrium. Vale's Elders and priests would give speeches to the masses at each solstice and equinox, in addition to the occasional minor holiday and (in theory) serious emergency. The stones at his feet were worn from centuries or even millennia of occasional contact. The statues against the far wall were nondescript figures of worship, presumably left by the ancients. But who knew anymore? And who really cared?

That last part was what perplexed Matthew the most. He drew closer to the statues. A thin pool of water flowed around the edge of the atrium, just before the statues and the wall, and the delicate sound of running water helped cover his too-loud footsteps. This whole room seemed so… generic. Dim lights, smooth stone, faceless statues? A water feature, for gods' sake? Sol Sanctum was supposed to be dedicated to the glory of the sun in all its aspects. Where was the iconography? Where was the beauty that the histories spoke of?

He checked for the guard again. The light was a little dimmer this time - was it his imagination? Or was there someone standing there, blocking some of the light? If there was, he'd need another diversion to get out when he was done. He bit his lip. A problem for later, then. For now… the statues.

Starting at one end of the room, he walked slowly, looking at them from all angles. Who were they supposed to be? Why were they here? Nobody in town could give him an answer when he had asked. He looked at each in turn, tried to spot any hints the ancients might have left. But in the dim light, he saw even less than he had a month ago, at the Spring Equinox celebration.

At least now he had the freedom to investigate as he pleased. So when he reached the other end of the room, no answers yet presenting themselves, he did what he always did when presented with a troubling problem.

He sat and meditated.

Eyes closed. Deep breaths. He felt the air flow through his lungs. On his skin, the warmth of the flame topping the wall's torches. In his ears, the sound of the water. And all around him the earth and stone. Was this intentional, he wondered? Did the Ancients bring the four elements together here as a metaphor, a message for the disparate Adepts of Vale to work together as one? Or… perhaps it was a message about the sun itself, the root of alchemy before the power was (mostly) sealed to protect mankind?

The scent of the room brought back memories. Stories the Elders told to the crowds. The excitement of childhood, learning about Vale's culture and its storied past. Parables about doing right, treating others properly without regard to differences or prejudice.

And what to do when lost. How to do the right thing.

When in darkness…

…Seek the light.

Light.

He opened his eyes. Blinked. Light?

With his eyes adjusted to the dim conditions, he noticed it for the first time. Light. A halo around the head of one of the statues. How? From where?

He came slowly to his feet, walked toward the statue in question, his eyes never leaving the mystery light. It was barely anything, a thin outline. But it was definitely there. And the closer he got, the more certain he was.

The light was coming from behind the statue. And if the statue was flat against the wall… that meant there was something behind it. Something that, as far as Matthew knew, no one else in town had discovered.

He bit his lip to keep from cheering and settled for a vigorous fist-pump instead. He couldn't talk about it until he was certain, but… this could change everything. His parents were always talking about the nature of alchemy itself, the study of the ancients, but how could they call themselves scholars if they hadn't even seen the real Sol Sanctum?

He'd be back. In less than a year, he'd be 18, and he'd finally be eligible for guard duty. He could come back and examine this in greater detail, find a way to move that statue.

Without the present risk of getting caught and prosecuted for trespassing, of course.

He sneaked back toward the entrance. Yup, the guard was back. Elissa, he thought? He didn't know her well. One of Tyrell's sisters' friends, maybe. He couldn't hope that she would let his presence slide if she saw him.

He reached into his pocket and took out the rock he'd prepared just for the occasion. All he needed to do was make a distraction…

* * *

"What I don't get," Tyrell said, taking a drag for dramatic effect, "is why people make such a big fuckin' deal."

The two women with him were hanging on his every word, as if he'd said something profound. He was late to the party, so to speak, so they had a bit of a head start on him, and he was no lightweight when it came to smoking weaveweed anyway. They were baked, and he was merely slightly stoned.

He believed that this was what experienced politicians called "easy mode."

"I have like, five older sisters," he said. "My grandfather's the mayor. Both my parents work in administration. I'm not dumb - I've done my homework. I've even spoken to visiting merchants on Market Days, and they agree - there's a ton of potential for growth if we just stop being so closed off to the world. Vale needs an ambassador, I have the experience, and it's not like I'm needed here."

Lyra stole the joint from his hand and took an eager puff. "Fuck you," she said dryly. "You just wanna see the world. Everyone does at first." She passed it back. "I've been out. It's nothing impressive. Just a bunch of boring people with boring lives. Like here, but nobody can even start fires with their mind."

"I think the Elders have a point," said Beth quietly. "Vale is so small compared to the big nations. If they knew about us, and our resources…"

Tyrell scoffed. "What, you think they'd come for us? Try to conquer us? Like Lyra said, we have Adepts. We're too dangerous to attack, too small to worry about, and too wealthy to ignore."

"Fffffffffffuck alla that," Lyra sighed. "Can you quit talking politics for like, five minutes? Let's talk chill shit." She flopped onto her back. "People on the outside are a bunch of big swingin' dicks anyway."

Tyrell leaned closer. "What, too many huge dicks in your life?"

Lyra lifted her head enough to wink at him. "No shortage, if I do say so."

Beth shuffled closer. "Ooh! Do tell! And pass it around, Ty. You're hogging."

He handed the joint to her as the girls traded gossip. Yeah, maybe he cared too much. But who could blame him? The youngest child - and only son - of a family with a history in government. He had a thing or two to prove, and he wasn't shy about it.

If he only had the opportunity-

"Uh oh," Lyra said. "Dork incoming."

Tyrell looked in the direction Lyra indicated as she stood and started brushing dirt off her skirt. There he was, Ty's closest friend, the kid brother he'd always wanted and never had. Matthew, alias Dork.

"I've said it before," Tyrell groaned. "It's not cool too talk about him like th-"

The sound of rapid footsteps interrupted him, followed by a grunt as Matthew jumped into a slide next to them. He kicked up a cloud of dirt and dust, spattering Beth and Lyra as he landed in an unconvincingly relaxed position.

"Ladies, Ty," Matthew said in greeting. "Fine day, right? Hey, pass a sec." Beth and Lyra were too distracted by brushing themselves off - Matt seized the joint and took a deep, deep drag.

He fell into a coughing fit, predictably, but seemed to fan the smoke toward his own clothes. Brother-from-another-mother or not, the kid's behavior was really, really tough to defend sometimes.

"So what's on the docket?" Matt asked with an obnoxious grin. "We're being cool, rebellious teens?"

"Matt, what the fuck?" hissed Tyrell.

"It's cool, play along," whispered Matthew. "If anyone asks, I've been here all afternoon. I owe you big."

"Fuck yes you owe me-"

"Yeah, um," started Beth, "I gotta… I got a thing. With Lyra. Right?"

Lyra boggled, taking a moment or two before it clicked. "Oh! Right, the thing. Thanks." She brushed off more dirt. "Good to see you, Matt. Later, Ty." She barely concealed her eye roll as she turned and left with Beth.

Tyrell watched them leave. He was sure there was something he could have said to bring them back, but… well, the weed was hitting him. And… just, what the fuck, Matt?

He shook his head and held out a hand in a what-the-fuck gesture toward Matthew. The other boy put the joint in it.

"Today, I learned something," Matt said.

Ty didn't answer. He took a much-needed puff.

After waiting a moment, Matt shrugged. "I learned that when I can't use psynergy to help my aim, I'm really shit at throwing rocks. Trust me when I say I was aiming down the road."

"What-"

And once again, the sound of footsteps.

Matthew took the joint, threw it to the ground, stood and stomped in one fluid motion as he turned to face the newcomer.

"Oh, h-hey! How's it, uh…"

"Don't care. Pissed." Elissa's voice, a friend of his oldest sister. Shit. "Some bloody whore smoked me in the head with a rock. He was running this way. Either of you see him?"

 _Matt, you fucking idiot._

Matthew, of course, was feigning a dumb, clueless look. "Someone like… who? What? No, nobody here but us, and uh…" He trailed off, coughed. "Just us."

Tyrell palmed his face.

Elissa frowned. "Is something wrong? What's that smell?"

"W-what smell? I don't smell anything."

 _Oh, nobody stammers like that in real life and you know it._

"I bet." Elissa looked at Tyrell. "I wonder how your dad's gonna react when he hears you two have been smoking weaveweed in the woods."

 _Fuck you, Matt._


End file.
